There were footsteps in the vestibule, and the alabarch stood in the archway. Lydia sprang up.
"What," she cried, unable to wait for his report, "what said the proconsul?"
The alabarch came into his presiding-room with a slow step; he let his cloak fall on his chair, and stood in the lamplight worn and troubled. Seeing Classicus, he greeted the visitor before he answered Lydia.
"Evil, evil; naught but evil," he sighed, "and threats. And the proconsul's threats are never empty!"
"What does he threaten?" Classicus asked.
"Me—and mine."
"Alas! our people!" Lydia sighed.
"No, daughter! Thee!"
"Lydia!" Classicus exclaimed.
"Why does he threaten me?" Lydia cried.